To be Better
by CamsthiSky
Summary: In which Damian has to choose between Dick and Talia and finds that it really isn't a choice.


**Anon asked: I wish you would write a fic where in some way Damian has to choose (in however serious or non-serious of a situation) between Dick and Talia!**

 **Hope I did this subject justice!**

 **Also, thanks to ranaji-chan's sister for looking this over for me!**

* * *

"Your mother requests your presence," the assassin says, like it doesn't change _everything._ But it does. It does change everything, and for once in his life, Damian thinks he's at a loss for words. The assassin is down on one knee, and his face is blank, and he looks so out of place on top of a rooftop in the middle of Gotham.

"Why?" Damian finally manages to ground out. "Why now? After all this time? After all she has done?"

The assassin doesn't move. "I have no answer. My only task is to retrieve you and bring you to the meeting place."

Damian—he thinks about it. No matter how much he shouldn't, how much has been settled between him and his current family, and broken between him and his last, he thinks about it. He can't help it. It's his _mother._ Talia may not have been the best, she didn't seem to show she cared like Father or Richard, but it was in the subtle things.

So ye, he thinks about it. And then he thinks about what he's doing on top of this rooftop right now—what he was doing before the assassin came—and he know that he can't. He can't accept this.

Richard is inside the building underneath his feet, experiencing who know what kind of torture, and Damian know he can't just abandon him when no one else will come for hours. Even if this opportunity to see his mother again, to find out what she wants, will only come once, Damian is the only one close enough to help, to use what Richard has taught him, to be _better._

"Tell her I am busy," Damian says, ignoring the emotions tightening up in his chest. He swallows them down and continues on towards the stairwell access when the assassin only narrows his eyes. "And tell my mother if she wants to see me, then she should come in person, not send a lackey."

Yes, he wants to see his mother, he thinks as he shoves through the doorway, leaving the assassin behind on the roof. The assassin's eyes never leave his back, but Damian forces himself to vault over the railing into darkness. Ignore them. He wants to see his mother, but he can't.

He's already wasted too much time, and Richard needs him. And Richard comes first.

* * *

"Damian," Richard breathes after Damian takes out the guards—unconscious, of course. Not dead. Richard is bleeding heavily from multiple gunshot wounds, wrists bound to the chair he's slumped forward in. It looks like he can barely move, let alone stay conscious, and Damian know it is probably only by sheer willpower that he's sending that idiotic grin of his Damian's way. "You came."

"Of course I did," Damian scoffs, cutting the rope easily with a hidden knife. If Richard had been more coherent, he'd probably already be out of the ropes himself, since they seem to have been tied by an amateur. Although, judging from the burns on Richard's wrists, it looks like he'd already started on them. Good. "Drake and Todd are both out of the city, and Father has business with the Justice League. Cain did say she was coming, however, but she was delayed by something."

Richard chuckles, though Damian isn't sure exactly why. He doesn't see anything about the situation they're in, but that seems to be the way Richard is, sometimes. Blood loss certainly hasn't helped any, in Damian's opinion.

"You're a good kid," Richard tells Damian as the last rope falls away.

"I'm not a child," Damian says automatically, but he can't summon any heat to go with it.

Richard staggers to his feet, and Damian tries to take some of his weight, but he doesn't have Father's or Todd's or even _Drake's_ physique. He's thirteen, not tall enough to even support his—dare he say it—brother, and it's frustrating. He helps as much as he can, though, and they stumble out of the building.

(It's a good thing Damian had taken out the enemy beforehand. One or both of them will probably end up dead if they are caught in this position.)

Richard's breathing is labored as they walk to the nearest lamp post, and Damian lets Richard slump against it as he takes in their surroundings. They are somewhere in Crime Alley, and it wouldn't be smart to stay here longer than they have to.

"Oracle, send the Batmobile," Damian says into his comm. unit. "I have found Nightwing."

 _"On its way. Injuries?"_

Damian looks Richard over, and he's still bleeding heavily from his shoulder, which Richard has already seen to it to put pressure on. "Multiple gunshot wounds," Damian tells her. "The worst seems to be to the right shoulder. Other than that, a few bruises and lacerations, but nothing seemingly serious."

 _"I'll have Alfred prep the medbay. Be careful Robin."_ And then there's a click, stopping Damian from spitting anything at Gordon. Which—for once—Damian doesn't think he minds. He has other, more pressing things on his mind.

A shiver travels down Damian's spine, and Damian looks back up to the rooftop. The assassin is still there, and he's still on one knee, looking down at Damian with a wicked gleam in his eyes. That hasn't changed. But Damian locks eyes with the woman who stands next to the assassin, and something in Damian's stomach drops.

He hadn't thought she would _actally_ come in person.

"What are you looking at?" Richard asks, but he's too out of it to try and turn his head all the way towards the rooftop, and Damian rips his gaze away from his mother's just as the Batmobile roars to a stop before them.

Damian shakes his head, and ignores whatever is building up inside of him. More pressing things. Richard's hurt, and the way he's bleeding, he's going to need some help putting pressure on some of those wounds when he inevitably passes out.

So he says, "It's nothing. No get in the car before I shove you in it myself."

Richard laughs again as Damian makes to guide him forward. Richard beats him to it, though, pushing away from the lamp post and ducking into the driver's side of the car—which is idiotic. Damian can drive just fine. But Father has this _rule_ and Richard insists on playing along with it. Damian won't argue tonight, however, just like he won't call Richard out on his breathless rambling once Damian slides into the passenger seat.

And when Richard eventually _does_ pass out, Damian takes over the task of keeping pressure on Richard's shoulder. All the way to the Cave. And then when the car rolls to a stop, he helps Pennyworth take Richard to the medbay and clean and dress his wounds.

It's only later that night, after Richard has woken up and fallen back asleep in his own bed, and a long time after that, that Damian wonders why his mother was there that night. He doesn't regret turning his back on her, no matter how much something in him aches to see her.

After all, Richard is safe, and it's because of Damian, isn't it?

* * *

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